Spirits of Las Vegas
by Lizwontcry
Summary: Everyone on the team takes a good look at their lives, and what it is that gets them through the day. Through it all, they realize that family is what makes the difference, and they are, in fact, a family. Implied GSR, but not the focus.


**A/N - Thanks, as always, to GSFanatic, who has the fabulous ideas and talks me out of my bad ones. Also as always, I am open to any kind of criticism you have, constructive or not. I just love me the feedback. Thank you for reading, and I hope you dig it.**

He passed by a dozen liquor stores on the way home from work, and just as many bars. The strip was only a few miles away, he could go get lost in the crowd and drink until he was ready to pass out. A few years ago, he probably would. Hell, a few weeks ago he probably would. Loneliness did that to him. Bitter, aching loneliness made him seek other ventures. It made him want to call his ex-wife, a miserable shrew of a woman, to see what she was up to lately. It also made him think about Annie more than usual. Sweet, hard, dangerous Annie. She wasn't that far away, at least not geographically. It just never seemed to work out with the two of them. One of these days he was going to escape this disgusting, sinful town and surprise the both of them. He hoped she was ready. He just hoped that his exit wouldn't be like Sara's, where the pressure built and built and built, and finally faded away.

But it was going to be okay. Things were different now, because his baby was getting clean. His Ellie, his little girl, was sobering up and getting off the streets. Finally. He didn't know what led her to ultimately making the decision, but she did. Somewhere, she found strength. Somewhere, she found the spirit that long ago left her behind. Ellie was going to be Ellie again, not "Jersey" or whatever the girls on the street were calling her these days. She was getting better, and so for her, he would get better too.

"I'll do it," she told him just last night in a surprising phone call. "I'll do it, but you have to do something for me. Let's do this together, Daddy." She hadn't called him "Daddy" in years, at least not in a sentimental way.

He agreed, even though his drinking was far more under control then it ever was when she was a kid and they were living under the same roof. He didn't have blackouts anymore. There wasn't any sucking on cough drops all day to get rid of the smell anymore. But he would stop if it meant getting his daughter back. He would stop for her, because she was his strength. She was the reason he stumbled out of bed to chase the bad guys for yet another day. If he couldn't change her, at least he could put the kind of people who made her that way behind bars. It was a twisted kind of revenge that he almost enjoyed. He didn't have to do that anymore. It was over, finally over. His baby was coming back to him.

In the driveway of his worn, uncomfortably hot and empty house, he took out his wallet. Her picture was where it always was, where it had been ever since she was born. It was falling apart, of course, and desperately faded. _Kind of like me,_ he thought with a chuckle. But instead of feeling the usual regret and anxiety that occurred when he glanced at this picture, he felt pride. Encouragement. Happiness. Because she found her inner strength, and because of hers, he rediscovered his. It was going to be okay, because she was going to be okay.

* * *

He never hated an alarm more. It just kept ringing and ringing and ringing, no matter how many times he pressed the snooze button. Soon he would have to get out of bed and start all over again. Soon, he'd have to face the job, the people, the world that no longer had respect for him. It was a daily struggle, and it was another day.

Kicking the sheets off his sweaty body, he rose carefully from his bed. Everything hurt. He would kill for a pill, just a couple, not too many. But he promised everyone he'd do better, and he was trying. Most of the time. There were a few pills hidden away in this apartment somewhere for emergency purposes, and he was thinking that maybe this was going to be one of those days.

Before he got out of bed to start the search, someone banged on the door. He sighed. _Who is it now?_ It certainly wasn't Tina, he knew that for sure. His ex-wife was getting ready to have some other asshole's baby, and they weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment. _Really messed that one up,_ he thought as the banging on the door continued. Part of him also wished it would be Catherine, but he knew it wouldn't be. Ever since she confided in him about her "fantasy," he could tell she moved on. Maybe, at some point, there could have been something. Not anymore.

"Come on, Rick, answer the door, man!" It was Nick. Warrick was surprised; they hadn't talked much in the past couple of weeks and he was afraid their friendship had come to an abrupt halt. Warrick wouldn't put it past Nick at all. For a friendship to work, there has to be communication. There hadn't been much of that lately on his part, with anyone.

"What is it, Nick? It's too early for this shit!" It was almost 10:00 at night. Early for him, nearly bedtime for most.

"Man, answer the door, okay? I was in the neighborhood and I wanted to see how you were. That's it."

"This isn't some kind of bullshit intervention, is it? You got Catherine and Grissom with you?"

He opened the door not knowing what to expect, but it was just Nick. Good old Nick.

"Hey. I brought you something," Nick said. He handed his old friend a paper bag. Warrick peaked inside.

"Steak? From Circus Circus? That's...weird," he said, grinning in spite of it all.

"You've just been looking a little thin lately," Nick said, glancing at him in a way that made Warrick slightly uncomfortable. "We need to get some meat on those bones."

Warrick laughed. "Whatever, man."

"I just had this sweet date, you would have been so jealous," Nick told him, smiling perversely. "This girl, she knows things. She taught me things, Rick. I think it's love, I really do."

Warrick laughed. "That's great. You needed to be taught a thing or two about women."

He and Nick sat down at the table in the kitchen, and Warrick started going to town on his steak. Nick was right, he really hadn't eaten a lot in the past couple of weeks. The steak was exactly what he needed.

Nick watched his friend eat, concern plain on his face. Warrick knew what was coming, and Nick didn't disappoint.

"So, what's been going on? Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm just a little tired."

Nick chuckled and shook his head.

"It's me, Rick. You know you can tell me anything. You know, I always tried to get Sara to talk to me, and she never would. Look what happened to her, man. We lost her. Talk to me. I don't want to lose you, too."

Warrick didn't want to tell him how bad things were. He didn't want anyone to know that he couldn't handle the pressure. But this was Nick. It used to be, he really could tell him anything. And so he did. And Nick listened and offered advice and a shoulder to cry on, and it was then that Warrick realized the drugs didn't have anything on people like Nick. The drugs weren't worth losing out on someone like him. So after Nick left, he rummaged around the house and found all the pills. Never had a toilet's flush sounded so sweet.

* * *

She was exhausted. Just plain exhausted. It had been a long day, a long night, half of another long day...and she felt like she was going to pay for it when she got home to a very angry teenager. Lindsey was hard to predict these days, and Catherine wasn't sure what mood she'd find her daughter in on any given day, or really any given hour. Catherine remembered what it was like to be her daughter's age, so she tried to give Lindsey the benefit of the doubt. It was more of a challenge then she ever imagined.

It was almost 5:00 when she got home, a time most people got off work. Except most people didn't have to go back in another 7 hours. Lindsey was home from school, multitasking by listening to some horrible pop band and chatting with friends on her laptop. When Catherine came in, Lindsey looked up at her, the same expression of boredom she always had when her mother wanted to talk to her. Without even looking at Catherine, Lindsey handed her yet another detention slip to sign. It was her third one since school started.

"What is it you do at school?" Catherine asked her daughter in a fit of controlled rage. "Do you even manage to get to class with all the trouble you find yourself in?"

Lindsey sighed and looked at her mother in contempt. The look stung, even if Catherine was used to it, even if she did give her own mother that look on plenty of occasions. She'd be the first to admit that this was getting out of hand, and it was time to give her daughter a talking to about her attitude.

"Whatever," Lindsey said, an answer that always infuriated Catherine. "You have no idea, Mother. You really don't."

"I've had enough, Lindsey. Your grades are appalling and your attitude is even worse. What's going on? And don't say it has anything to do with Eddie. Your father died 5 years ago, you can't use that as an excuse anymore."

Lindsey looked up at her mother with a strange look of confusion, and Catherine sighed.

"I've had several of your teachers tell me that you tell them you're upset about losing your dad so they'll give you more sympathy. It sickens me that you'd sink that low, it really does."

For once, Lindsey didn't roll her eyes or look disgusted or turn her music up (that one really pissed Catherine off). Instead, she turned the radio /ioff/i and looked Catherine in the eye.

"How would you know how I feel about it? We haven't talked about it in years, Mom," she said, a slight quiver to her voice. "You go to work, I go to school, and we never talk about what happened anymore. Do you think I can just forget about it and move on with my life? I was in the car, too. I could have died, too. And yet you never acknowledged that maybe it had some kind of impact on me."

Catherine had no idea what to say. Her mind raced, trying to think of something to say, anything at all, that would make a difference.

"I know you don't know what to tell me, and that's okay. I know you have a lot going on, too. You lost your ex-husband. And you had to watch your dad die, too. I know your job is really important to you, and that it takes over a lot of your life. I know all this, Mom, but I'm here, too. You can't just feed me and clothe me and expect that to be all. I need help, too."

Her daughter had just said more to her in the past 5 minutes than she'd said in, oh, about the past year. And she felt horrible about it. How could she have let this happen? Yes, she had a lot going on. Losing Eddie, Sam Braun, the job, watching Sara deal with her emotional nightmares, watching Warrick go down a dangerous path...those things mattered. But her daughter mattered more. Lindsey Willows had the spirit Catherine had before she grew up and learned that life sucked. Catherine didn't want her to learn that lesson at quite such an early age.

"I'm sorry, baby," Catherine said, sitting down next to her daughter. "I had no idea. I don't know why, but I just...didn't."

"It's okay, Mom. I know we don't talk much, it's my fault, too. I'll do better, but you have to help me."

She wiped the tears off Lindsey's face, which were now mixing with her own tears. The tears of two strong, courageous women who never knew quite what to say.

"I'll do better, too. You are everything, and I will prove it to you. Just give me time."

Lindsey wrapped her arms around Catherine, and they sat there for a while, knowing that things were going to change. They were going to be there for each other, 2 spirits and 2 strengths aligned, and it would be okay.

* * *

"Gil? Are you zoning out on me? Come back to Earth, Gil," Conrad Ecklie said, a condescending smile firm on his smug face.

Gil sighed. Another departmental meeting he really didn't care about. Why did he have to go to so many meetings, anyway? He ran his team just fine, he didn't need Ecklie sticking his nose into it all the time.

"No, Conrad, I'm paying attention."

"I'm sure. What I was saying is that I need those evaluations ASAP. I'm not sure why you're always late with these things, Gil. Why does it take such a long time?" And he went on and on and on about evaluations and quotas and subscriptions to forensic journals, and it was all Gil could do to stay awake.

To keep himself from outright falling asleep, he went to his happy place. This included his house, his dog, and his woman.

He missed her. God, he missed her so much. It figured that once he discovered that there was someone out there who made him the person he always wanted to be, she left him for an obscene amount of time. Part of him didn't blame her. She'd been through a tremendous ordeal in her life, and the thing with Natalie just put it all into perspective. But the other part was miserable and just wanted her to come home. Didn't she realize that they all needed her? That _he_ needed her?

Still, he tried to do everything he was supposed to do. He tried to be there for his team, which was getting to be more of a challenge. Warrick was slipping away, although it seemed like he was trying to get a grip. Catherine was always upset about something. Nick and Greg were always dependable but they were just 2 people. He wondered what he was going to have to do to boost morale. If he had to take them out into the mountains so they could shoot each other with paint balls, he'd do it, but he didn't think even that was going to help at this point. He wondered where everyone's spirits had disappeared to. Did Sara take it with her when she left, or had it been gone way before that?

It wasn't that he couldn't function without her. It wasn't like he never smiled or never experienced anything pleasurable now that she was gone. His bugs still made him happy. Coming home to Hank, who was always ecstatic to see him, never failed to put a smile on his face. It's just that, when she was here, she made these experiences even better. She enhanced them.

When Conrad was finally done listening to himself talk, he dismissed Grissom. "Have those evaluations for me by tomorrow. I'm serious, Gil!"

Grissom knew he was serious. He also knew there was no chance in hell those evaluations would be done tomorrow. Nor would Warrick be cured of his addictions, Catherine would get her head out of the clouds, Nick would stop being so friendly and finally become assertive, Greg would overcome his rookie status and take control, Hodges would get his nose out of his butt and Sara would come home to him. How was he going to do that? How could he evaluate his team when they couldn't even evaluate themselves? How was he going to--

His cell phone rang. He knew who it be before he even looked at the Caller ID. Somehow, she always seemed to sense when he needed her.

"Hey," he said. "I've missed you."

He told her about Ecklie, and the rest of it, and she listened, and it was okay again. It was even more okay when she mentioned she was coming home, and soon, too.

"I'll be there," she said. "My mother is great, but I miss you guys. I miss you, Griss."

"When?" He asked her. "When are you coming home to me?"

"In a few weeks. Be patient."

And he would be. For her. She had been patient for years when it came to him. When someone puts that much work and effort into you, without reward, for such a long time, you don't forget. And he never would.

* * *

After a particularly frustrating shift where nothing of any substance was accomplished, Nick and Greg found themselves at the same damn diner they always found themselves going to.

"Why do we always come here?" Nick asked impatiently.

"Haven't we been over this before?" Greg said. "Because it's open 24 hours. And I like the food here."

They ordered pancakes and bacon and the coffee extra strong. The waitress winked at both them. They ignored her.

The usual topics were covered in a record amount of time. Nick told Greg about the woman he'd been seeing. Greg told Nick about the latest way Grissom was torturing him. They talked about Sara and how she was coming home soon, which they were both equally excited about. The fact that they both had crushes on her at some point throughout the years was not discussed, but silently acknowledged.

While Nick was chowing down on his pancakes, Greg suddenly turned thoughtful. Nick always knew when Greg had something on his mind, but he gave him a chance to tell him instead of asking about it. Greg would tell him when he was ready. Warrick was a different story. Warrick needed to be poked and prodded every now and then.

"I've been thinking lately..." Greg started. He took a bite of sausage. And then bacon. And then pancakes.

"Yes?" Nick tried to stay patient. Greg didn't always think linearly.

"What do you do for yourself when things get rough? I mean, you and I...we've both been through some stuff in the past couple of years, and I just want to know what you do...to get through it."

"Been through some stuff" was the understatement of the decade. Being buried alive and eaten by ants? Being nearly beaten to death by an angry mob? Yeah, they'd been through some things, and they lived to tell about it. They were survivors.

"Well, you guys are always here for me," Nick said. "You, Catherine, Grissom, Rick--all of you guys have been really good at being here for me."

Greg shook his head. "I know that, man. But we have to have things outside of work, too. It can't all be here. I know, for me, I have to leave this place completely behind sometimes."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know," Nick said, nodding. "My mom and dad are good to talk to. My sisters are all excellent listeners. I know that I can always go back home and sit at their dining room table and talk all night, and they'll all listen. They recharge me, man. They give me strength when my spirit is broken."

"I know how that is. I can't tell my parents everything because they're so ridiculously protective. But they always make me feel better when most of the time they don't even know what's wrong. Now Papa Olaf, I can tell him anything. He gives the best advice. I don't know how he knows so much about everything. The man's a sage."

Nick chuckled. "You're definitely right about needing to get your head away from here once in a while, but I've found that you guys are my family out here in Vegas. You guys understand me, me and my weird problems. My family, they get it too...but it's always good to confide in the ones that know what you're going through."

They both nodded, knowing how true it was. Their family, their blood, were the ones who gave you life. Their peers were the ones who help you live it.

* * *

The drive back to Vegas was brutal, but she didn't mind it. She didn't even turn the radio on. Home was only a couple hundred miles away, and she couldn't get there fast enough.

She knew she could have just called, but she wanted to see the look on their faces, especially Grissom's. She wanted to know exactly how they felt, the look in their eyes, when she came back. It was selfish, yes, but she felt like she deserved to be selfish, just a little.

It was on a Thursday. She snuck in right before Griss handed out assignments. Poking her head inside, she could see all of them at the table, ready to get to work. Oh, what a relief it was to see them all together again. How could she leave these people? They were her blood.

"Catherine, you and Nick have a double homicide at the Wynn. Greg and Warrick, you've got suspicious circs in Henderson. I'm going solo tonight, there's a bug situation that needs attention..."

Everyone turned to see what, or who, was getting his attention, because it wasn't the bugs. Nobody interrupted assignments and got away with it. Except Sara Sidle, that is.

Sara smiled mysteriously, and they all squealed with surprised delight. Suddenly, she was surrounded by hugs and pats on the back and laughter and shock and she couldn't be any happier if she tried. Except for when they all moved aside and let Grissom in.

"You didn't say..." he started. She nodded, knowing that they would talk later. At home. _Their_ home.

"Whatever," he said, and he grabbed her. They kissed, long and hard, not caring who was around to see it. Everyone laughed and Nick let out an inappropriate whistle that made them smile through their kiss.

"Okay, get a room!" Catherine said happily. Sara laughed, and they released each other...for the time being.

Brass came in to give Grissom more information about his bug situation. He spotted Sara and grinned.

"It's about time," he told her. "I was getting a little tired of Gil telling me about sleeping with Hank every night."

As Sara answered questions and laughed and hugged and stole glances at Grissom, she wondered how she ever thought San Francisco was her home. Getting to know her mother again was an invaluable experience, she knew that in her heart. But these people, her colleagues and her friends, they were her heartbeat. They were the ones who maintained her spirit and her soul. The ghosts she'd been chasing, they were empty and useless now. She'd been chasing them for so long; had felt like she was never part of a family for so long, she didn't even notice what was right in front of her. They were her strength. They were the ones that fed her spirit. This is where she belonged.

* * *

12 hours later, the Swing Shift of the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department's CSI unit, plus their favorite detective, ate lunch together. In between sandwiches and Diet Cokes and French fries, they all thought to themselves one thing: _complete._ . They each had their own ways of dealing with the stress of the job, but when the day was over, they all knew the truth--they were family, and without every piece of the puzzle, they were lost. But they had been found, and it was going to be okay.


End file.
